


Right After All

by JinnIsFinanciallyFailing



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: How Do I Tag, Jreg don't read this please, M/M, Multi, Nazi is a dick cuz i hate him, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Stephen King's Carrie References, Telekinetic Ancom, Tragic Romance, ancap is actually nice, carrie au, first fanfic don't kill me, i just read carrie and i watched the movies so i became inspired, its for your own good, sad and angsty af, soft hoppean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27907561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinnIsFinanciallyFailing/pseuds/JinnIsFinanciallyFailing
Summary: Ancom's eyes blurred with tears of anguish and fury as qui saw the words crudely etched into quis old bedroom door..,"Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, but Ancom eats sh*t!"Only the Nazi could've done this, who else had endlessly harassed quem to this point?  Ancom angrily thought this as qui fingered quis bat and slammed it into the defiled door, imagining it was the fascist's smug face.  As the door caved into a dent, the anarchist thought more, and longer for a way to get out of this hell.  Qui didn't need Tankie to protect quem, qui could protect quemself, qui was an anarchist after all.  If only there was a way for true revenge, if only....if only.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Inspired by Carrie by Stephen King.  Also this is my first work on here, I'm still getting accustomed to it :')
Relationships: Commie/Ancom, leftist unity - Relationship, minor Minarchist/Hoppean, minor libcap
Kudos: 18





	Right After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nazi decides to harass Ancom for the umpteenth time, with consequences for them both. However, a rescuer in the form of the Minarchist comes and saves quem. Minarchist is a major character cuz I can't get enough of him <3

The rain was imminent that day, and it was starting just now. It just added to Ancom's already dark mood, as qui trudged down the sidewalk to the former extremist house, letting the cold drops splat and roll off quis skin. 

The Centricide was over, the centrists were dead, it was just the extremists now. For those like the Librights of Ancapistan, it meant finally having the stateless utopia that they wanted. For the Nazi and the fascists, it meant wiping out the minorities and creating an ethnically cleansed state. For Ancom, it should have meant a happy ending, and ending where qui and Tankie were finally able to settle down and live out their lives together, just them, happy and free. 

But that was wishful thinking, there were no happy endings, just like there was no God. Happy endings only happened in stupid fairy tales, and in oppressive capitalist regimes, for the oppressors anyway. No, when one problem ended another crisis began, and Ancom already started quis.

Ancom thought this darkly as qui shuffled down the monochrome sidewalk until the house came into view, the former home of the extremists. The house looked dull and a bit neglected looking, as vines were starting to entwine themselves creepily over the pillars that supported the porch, but it was home, well, formerly. Nobody had been in this house for awhile, with Ancom temporarily becoming Post-Left and joining the rest of the Anarchist-Polycule and Ancap running off with Libertarian to form Ancapistan. The Nazi and the Commie abandoned the house shortly after, where it remained untouched ever since.

The Nazi. Ancom clashed with the fascist since day one, and since the Centricide ended, he had been harassing qui worse than ever, to the point where he got genuinely sadistic. It wasn't too infrequent when qui occasionally found a note on qui's window that contained the fascist's favorite slurs, some of the nicest being "pig" and "degenerate faggot" . Ancom normally would've bashed his head in the next time qui saw him, and would've tried to tear Ancom to pieces while spouting a mixture of slurs, theory, and random gibberish, and would've gotten the rest of his body beaten up by an irate Tankie. 

"Tankie....." thought Ancom out loud to quemself as tears started to form in quis bright green eyes. Just thinking his name brought back harsh memories, but Ancom quickly wiped them away. Stop, stop thinking about him, it won't help, it never will. But the pain was still there, their latest fight still fresh in quis mind as qui picked up pace and hurried up the porch. "You still love him." Ancom thought as they creaked open the screen door, "And he probably hates you Ancom.". The tears almost fell, but the anarchist wiped them away as qui entered the darkened foyer. 

Ancom gingerly stepped through the house and up the staircase, careful not to step on the broken stair that led to the storage room underneath, a work of Ancap when they still lived here. Ancom chuckled as qui quickly remembered the rightist limping to the living room cursing as wood chips became embedded into his foot. Ancap wasn't the brightest in quis mind, but he certainly brightened up the place. Qui continued to go up the staircase and down the upstairs hall, past Ancap's old room, his door adorned with "Keep out: will shoot" signs now partially falling off it due to the old tape, and spotted quis door up ahead, which seemed to have bits of a white substance.

Ancom was puzzled as qui approached the door, still unable to discern the whiteness on it due to the lack of lighting. No one had been here in ages, and judging by the dust on the carpet underneath quis feet and the musty atmosphere that stung quis eyes, no one has been here since the beginning of the Centricide. However, the graffiti looked fairly new, and still confused, qui stumbled to the light switch and flipped it on. 

Qui couldn't tell what it said at first, as the white paint had mostly peeled off, but Ancom could discern the letters that were carved into the wooden entrance and as soon as qui did, qui took a deep breath in and closed quis eyes, refusing to believe. Ancom opened quis again tear filled eyes full of anguish and fury as qui saw the words crudely etched into quis old bedroom door...

"Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, but Ancom eats sh*t!"

Ancom slowly backed away from the door and let the tears fall. This was the work of the Nazi, who else would decide to graffiti quis door to spite quem? Ancom thought this angrily as qui fingered quis trusty bat, swung back, and cleanly slammed it into the defiled door, imagining it was the smug face of the fascist qui hated so much. The blow dented the door and sent shards of wood cascading onto the floor, with a partial piece of the "Ancom eats sh*t!" catching the anarchist's eye as it fell. Ancom leaned against the wall beside the wall and pondered for a way to escape, to escape the hell that the Nazi has created for quem. Tankie, qui could tell Tankie, qui smirked as qui thought of his beloved fellow leftist putting the fascist into a chokehold and forcing him to apologize, and qui laughing at the fascist struggling to escape....

But no. Quis mind fell down back to Earth as the grandfather clock gonged, signalling that it was four. No, qui wouldn't tell Tankie, qui couldn't, qui made up quis mind long ago. Ancom was quis own person, qui wouldn't run to Tankie for every little thing. Ancom's thoughts jumped to their recent fight, the fight that led to Tankie storming out, and the fight that led quem making quis way here. "He hates me," Ancom said aloud again, tears forming a third time. "He hates me after that, and he's not the boss of me anyway." Ancom stated this firmly as qui started to make quis way through the dented entrance. Qui was over Tankie, qui was on quis own. And qui was happy, even though a small voice in quis heart whispered that qui was far from that. "I'm over him. I'm over him and he's over you." 

"I'm sure, finally figured out that that useless idiot never loved you? ," a voice suddenly said behind Ancom, a smug drawling one. "Might as well, not like your retarded degenerate brain could get it at first."

Ancom spun around at the sound of the voice, and came face to face with none other than the Nazi himself. The fascist in turn grinned evilly and casually leaned against the door frame, "liked my little message?, thought it would bring back the good times.". 

"How did you get in here? ," the anarchist burst out suddenly. How DID Nazi get in here? Ancom certainly didn't hear him, and Nazi was a loud person. 

"Through the front door that you left open genius," the fascist stood up. "Honestly if you were any slower, you'd be going backwards." 

Apparently that comment was funny somehow, because a trill laugh rang out behind the Nazi, in the form of Homonationalist. Ancom just noticed that there were others accompanying him. The other fascist was wearing his usual open shirt and was leaning against the wall in an almost seductive manner, and his occasional lip pop made Ancom's hands itch towards quis bat, wanting to shove it down the Homofash's throat. Behind them stood the Conservative, with Bible in hand. He was shuffling from side to side and looking down, refusing to make eye contact with any of them as he ran his thumb over the crucifix he was wearing, and in short, did not look like he wanted to be there. 

Qui darted and tried to hurry around the Nazi to escape, but the fascist blocked quis path swiftly with his arm, throwing the anarchist off balance. "Going somewhere?" 

"Yeah, in fact I was," the anarchist spat at the Nazi in revulsion as qui continued to try to escape. The fascist by now looked like he was having the time of his life, laughing at the anarchist. Qui was starting to panic, and quis eyes darted to the end of the sinister dark hallway as if looking for someone to unexpectedly get qui out of this mess. "Now can you lay off?" 

But the fascist just moved in closer, at literal eye level with quem. Qui could feel the sadistic glee radiated from him, as the Nazi seemed to feel around for something in his pocket. "I don't think so," he growled and pulled out what appeared to be, to quis horror, a knife. "I think I should teach you a lesson first, you degenerate faggot, about poking around in places where you don't belong."

The fascist began to hold Ancom in place as qui struggled, and who heard the Homonationalist begin to laugh sadistically. Quis terrified eyes darted toward to quis left, where quis bat lay just a few feet away. Ancom reached, but quis arm was immediately pinned down, qui would never be able to reach it in time...

"Stop!" , a voice suddenly rang out from behind the Nazi. Quis eyes swiveled toward the sound, which came from none other than the Conservative. The moderate looked toward the Nazi defiantly, and looked genuinely disturbed. "What the fuck are you doing?"

The Nazi looked behind him, startled and angry. With one arm still pinning down the trapped anarchist, he turned to face his confronter. "Giving what this fucker deserves," the Nazi said low and dangerously, at this grabbing Ancom by the collar of quis hoodie. "What did Ancom ever do to you?! " the Conservative immediately shot back, still standing his ground. The grandfather clock gonged at the fifteen minute mark, the foreboding sound echoing through the house. Qui could feel the fascist's grip loosening. "He's a filthy anarchist, a degenerate, and a faggot, anything else you want me to explain?" the fascist said to the startled Conservative,who now looked like he regretted saying anything at all. This pushed Ancom over the edge.

“I’m not a boy!” the anarchist shouted, still struggling against the grip of the fascist. Qui was closer to the bat but it was just out of reach, if qui could somehow keep the Nazi distracted, qui might have a chance of escape. If only Tankie was here, if only Ancap was here, if only anybody would help quem, but Ancom knew that the chances of someone saving quem were still slim, the Conservative could only hold off quis tormentor for so long. Meanwhile, the Nazi’s expression turned from anger to triumphant satisfaction. 

“See?”, the Nazi exclaimed as he turned to the Conservative, his eyes flaming at this point. “What’s next Con?” The fascist stepped closer to the moderate, who seemed to be beginning to regret his decision. “Gonna call him by his fairy tale names? Gonna stand up for his degenerate actions? Gonna nya and say trans rights?” Ancom felt the Nazi’s grip loosen even further as qui stopped struggling, relying on the Conservative for quis way out. The Conservative, despite his obvious fear, still stood his ground. “Qui wasn’t doing anything to you, just leave quem alone, let's just go.” At this the Conservative stopped, realizing that he had gone too far. The Nazi looked livid by now stepping ever so closer to the moderate, still holding on to Ancom, but oblivious to his slipping grip on the anarchist. However, the rightist took one last deadly glare at the Conservative and turned back to a rapidly breathing Ancom.

“Well then Conservative,” the fascist stated. He raised the knife again, which made Ancom’s heart nearly stop. “Maybe if I carve a few little messages into this degenerate’s face, maybe you'll finally get it through your thick skull.” At this the fascist brought the knife right next to the anarchist’s face, to the point where Ancom could count the individual the notches that were lining it. Quis fear hung suspended in the air like a foul stench, and the fascist seemed to be revelling in it, as he put the knife against quis skin. Please….please don’t, the anarchist pleaded to quemself, as qui shut quis eyes, bracing quemself for the pain to inevitably come.

“Just realized that Tankie can’t save you?” the fascist taunted. “Just realized that he won’t be there to save your skin every time?” Ancom winced at these words, knowing they were true, and also at the cold blade that was now tracing the outline of quis cheek. Qui looked once again at the bat to the left, while closer, was still hopelessly out of reach once again. This was the end….this was the end, the anarchist thought hopelessly as qui stared despairingly at the bat, trying to turn quis face away from the fascist as a last ditch attempt to keep him from defiling quis face.

Without warning and with a startled cry from the Homofash, the bat skidded across the hardwood floor as if on a string, and flew into Ancom’s outstretched hand. Before the Nazi had the time to react, Ancom blindly swung the bat into his stomach and bolted before qui had time to think what just happened. However, this attempt was at a loss, as the Homofash stretched his arm out and swiftly caught Ancom, throwing quem entirely off quis feet. Qui struggled yet again, but the Homofash’s grip was no softer than the Nazi’s, despite his appearance. No….no…. The Nazi, gasping and spluttering, stumbled to his feet, picked up the abandoned bat, and limped over to the again struggling anarchist. The Nazi gave quem a bleary eyed glare before reeling back and burrowing the bat into quem’s stomach.

Ancom had been beat up before, qui was an anarchist after all. Qui had participated in the worst of riots, and had come home beat up and bruised. But nothing, nothing could have prepared quem for the brute force that Nazi put forth into quem. The blow knocked the breath out of quem and caused quem to splutter in return. The Nazi laughed as the anarchist started to wheeze trying to catch quis breath, and proceeded to hit quem over and over in the stomach. With each blow the fascist added a different slur, and each blow made the Homofash laugh his girly laugh, and caused the Conservative to look away horrified. Each blow caused the anarchist’s thoughts to become more and more hazy,and to the point where qui was coughing up what looked to be blood.

Seeing this, the Nazi quickly dropped the sputtering leftist and cringed as qui countinously coughed up more of the crimson fluid. The Homofash laughed again as the anarchist tried to grab him for support, but was ultimately kicked away. As the grandfather clock gonged at four-thirty, the fascist kicked the anarchist in the quis bruised stomach, sending quem flying backwards into the dented door sending flakes of white paint down onto quem. The anarchist felt quis senses leaving quem as the fascist kicked quem again and again, further bruising quis stomach and even cutting it a bit against the Nazi’s edged sole. “Tankie….” the anarchist gasped, as qui started to feel the pain leaving along with quis thoughts. The world was blacking out, fading, blacker, and blacker, and the only thing that qui could hear was the hazy far out laugh from the Homofash.

Suddenly, as qui felt quis final thoughts fade out after another blow, qui felt a strong pair of hands heaving quem up, and feeling quis forehead. The hands however, did not feel threatening, more comforting rather. Nonetheless, qui didn't have the courage not the strength to open quis eyes and see who quis rescuer was, in fact, it wasn't until qui heard the Nazi gasp in surprise did qui decide to crack them open to slits.

Ancom's heart yearned to see that it was Tankie, who had come to save quem yet again, who maybe felt bad about their recent confrontation. Qui for a second wanted to feel Tankie's lips against quis, sweeping qui in and comforting quem to no end. However, qui shoved these thoughts out of quis mind as qui truly felt his rescuer's grip, which was too soft and small to be the Commie. The grip could be Ancap's, which would have been a lot more likely, but Ancap would have probably loudly announced himself, annoyingly in fact. It wasn't until after this assumption that qui finally gathered quis courage to see who it was. Ancom slowly cracked quis eyes open, and saw what appeared to be a blurry blue shirt, definitely not Tankie or Ancap. It wasn't until quis bleary eyes came into clear focus, and saw quis rescuer screaming at the fascists. It couldn't be, but it appeared to be...

...Minarchist?

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" the rightist screeched at the fascists, which startled Ancom to the nth degree. The Minarchist looked absolutely apoplectic, hair sticking out everywhere in absolute fury. The Nazi and the Homofash looked taken aback to say the least at this sight, with the Conservative completely gone as though he had vaporized on the spot. The rightist meanwhile stomped over to the authrights and pointed his money counting finger right between the Nazi's eyes.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! WHAT THE FUCK POSSESSED YOU TO ACTUALLY TRY TO KILL SOMEONE WHO WASN'T EVEN DOING ANYTHING TO YOU?!"

Each word that the rightist screamed at the fascists shook Ancom to the core. Tankie would definitely do this, definitely not Ancap, but the Minarchist? Someone Ancom barely knew? Someone who would never hurt a fly, yet alone scream at someone in his entire life? It was unreal, and qui had to pinch quemself to make sure this wasn't a hallucination brought upon by the continuous beatings.

The Nazi took a step back after the Minarchist finished their tirade, and still looked at him utterly dumbfounded. The Homofash just stood there with his mouth slightly agape. Meanwhile, the rightist turned back to Ancom with an extremely calm and soft expression, though his face was still slightly pink.

"Are you all right Ancom?" he said softly. The anarchist slowly looked up from the dusty floor to the Minarchist. Ancom was thoroughly grateful, but embarrassed. Qui didn't need saving, who could take care of quemself. The fact that the Minarchist, someone who looked like he could cower underneath a kitten, was saving quem only deepened quis shame as qui hid quis face in quis bloodied hoodie. The Nazi's expression meanwhile shifted from shock to an evil leer.

"Your precious Tankie couldn't save you this time Ancom," he chuckled. "But at least we know that another weak degenerate like you will come to your pathetic ass's aid." He laughed again and turned to look vindictively at the libright :

"Especially someone who's desperately in love with a fair minded rightist who has enough sense to not want him in a long shot."

The Minarchist whipped around to face the Nazi again, his eyes full of fury. "What do you mean?" he spat in utter disgust. At this the fascist chuckled a third time and stepped toward the startled rightist, this time chilling Ancom's spine as he did so. "You don't know? I know a lot more than you think Minarchist, think Ancap didn't tell me things?"

"Tell me what?"

The fascist grinned once again, his face now looking even more sinister than before. "You know who I mean."

The Minarchist have him a glare of pure venom, a look that could contest Tankie's. "It doesn't matter, what matters is that you're harassing Ancom for no reason at all-"

The Nazi bluntly cut him off with a hand, with the Homofash now eagerly watching the drama and chaos unfold. The fascist cleared his throat. "You know I'm talking about. Your beloved Hoppean?" . 

That was a horrible decision.

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT HOPPEAN!"

This was exactly the wrong thing to say on the Nazi's part, as the Minarchist reeled back and punched the fascist directly in the jaw, sending him back into the doorway groaning in pain. The libright then strode over to Ancom while kicking up dust, and half carried and half dragged the startled anarchist to the end of the hallway. The Nazi, helped up by the Homofash, turned to face them, holding his face. 

At that exact moment, Ancom was glaring at the fascist with a deep inner hatred, and at that exact moment, the lightbulb above his head suddenly burst with an earsplitting pop. The mini explosion sent shards of glass littering the floor along with the wood chips from the beaten in door, caused the room to be immersed in the musty darkness, and caused the Nazi to jump and the Homofash give a frightened yelp. Ancom stared dumbfounded at the remains of the lightbulb, but before qui could say anything, the Minarchist resumed carefully hauling quem to the stairs. "Did...did I do that?" the anarchist whispered to quemself.

"This isn't over!" the authright screamed as they strode down the seemingly endless staircase. "You hear me degenerate scum? THIS ISN'T OVER BY A LONG SHOT!" The Minarchist was deeply hurt by these words, but didn't show it, but Ancom could 've sworn that qui heard the libright swear under his breath. Soon enough, they strode outside into the fresh post-rain air, which Ancom gratefully inhaled into quis lungs with deep satisfaction. Qui turned to the Minarchist who seemed to be staring off into the distance, totally vacant in expression.

"Thanks," the anarchist choked out, as it was still hard to speak without feeling intense pain from quis abdomen. Qui put quis hand against quis stomach, and pulled it back to see it covered in the sticky liquid that was unmistakably blood. The libright stood startled by this and began to berate Ancom with questions.

"Oh my God, you're bleeding. Are you alright? I'll call a private doctor, I'll call the best in Ancapistan, do you need anything? Do you need to go to the hospital? I'm sorry I didn't catch them sooner-"

"No, really Minarchist, I'm fine, don't be worried.". Ancom pulled quis hood over quis head as qui felt the rain beginning to start again. "I really, I really gotta be going now-"

The anarchist turned to leave, but felt the rightist's hand on quis shoulder.

"Look, Ancom, I'm sorry they did that to you. I'll make it up somehow-"

"No Minarchist, you don't-"

"Believe me Ancom, I will," the rightist stated adamantly. He turned to stare off into the distance in the midst of the now steadily drizzling rain. "What were you doing in there anyway?" he added casually.

Ancom flinched, qui had forgotten what qui had gone in there for. Something to relive old memories, something that reminded quem of a time when the fascists didn't try to murder Ancom every other day. Something that reminded quem of the great times qui had with Tankie before the Post-Left debacle, before the Centricide even.... Tankie...

Ancom to quis own embarrassment felt the waterworks rise yet again at the internal mention of quis beloved Communist, the man that qui wanted to desperately love so much, but wouldn't let quemself do so. Ancom became lost in hopeless thought, but quickly wiped away quis tears as the libright turned to face quem again.

"I was just getting theory stuff..cuz y'know, why not I guess," the anarchist stated as qui felt the anarchist staring at quem. This wasn't entirely true, as qui meant to grab a photo album as well, but qui didn't feel like getting into a long sentimental talk with the libright right now, regardless to the fact that he had saved quem. The Minarchist, Ancom assumed, most likely didn't want to get into sentiments either, as qui had seen how he had reacted to the mention of the Hoppean. The anarchist tried to switch the conversation to a lighter note. "What were you doing here? I've never seen you come here before."

The Minarchist shrugged nonchalantly and held up his arm, which qui finally noticed, was a bag that contained a shiny golden suit, which undoubtedly belonged to:

"Ancap," the rightist stated flatly as he rolled his eyes in annoyance. "He wanted me to get it for him, as he is too lazy and/or defending the property from the IRS to get up and get it himself." And because Hoppean is to busy being Hoppean to get it either, the rightist said internally. The Ancap mostly spent his time in their shared mansion, either managing calls with overseas business partners or snuggling with the Libertarian and going into a random spiel about topics ranging from communists to tailor prices. He could be annoying, but he was the most fun of the bunch next to the Minarchist. The Hoppean found him obnoxious most of the time, usually putting down the morning newspaper to shoot the Ancap and the Libertarian a dirty look through his sunken, dull yellow eyes whenever they got to talking. The Minarchist himself never minded and never really said anything, which probably put him at good views with the Hoppean, who would sometimes barely absent mindedly smile at the Minarchist before going back to reading about the stock market. That smile along with his eyes always got Minarchist, in a way that made his heart flutter and made himself blush, which he hid by pretending to sip his coffee. The Nazi's harsh words began to invade the libright's brain, the ones about the Hoppean. Those words stung, mostly because they were true, that the likeliness of Hoppean ever loving him was about as likely as the Ancap giving all his million dollar assets to a random homeless child on the streets of Ancapistan. The Minarchist tried to push these thoughts out of his mind, as he turned to see Ancom steadily walking away down the dimly lit street.

He trotted to the anarchist to catch quem by the shoulder just in time. "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you?" he asked breathlessly to Ancom, who turned to look at him a little annoyed at this point.

"No, there isn't," qui said sharply as he put quis hoodie over quis head even more. Then realizing qui sounded too harsh, who softened. "Really Minarchist, no. But thank you so much for getting me out of that. " A situation that you could have easily gotten out of yourself, qui thought sulkingly to quemself. With one last quick smile at the libright, qui set off down the street and soon went out of sight.

The Minarchist however just stood there, still deep in thought. If there was some way to make things up for Ancom. Why do you care so much?, a part of him said snappishly. If there was only some way... 

The libright pondered as he began to stroll down the now rapidly darkening streets. A gift? No, it wouldn't mean anything really. An invitation to the mansion? "That would be pleasant," the Minarchist said sarcastically. Very pleasant, complete with awkward comments and questions from Ancap and dirty looks from Hoppean. Ancom hated capitalism, qui would hate it there as well. Anything else? The rightist pondered again and gave up, completely drained of ideas. 

"I'll ask the Libertarian, or Ancap, if he won't be annoying about it ," the Minarchist ruled to himself as he quickened his pace. He sighed however, knowing that they would probably be as much help as the Posadist being tasked to establish world peace. He'd ask them later, after his nightly patrol shift. For now, the libright pulled out his custom made glock, and began to turn down an almost pitch black lane. He then turned on his flashlight, and began to inspect what seemed to be a spot on the suit, and after further examination, saw that it was Ancom's spattered blood.

Minarchist groaned as he turned off the flashlight and stuffed it back into his pocket. That was gonna be quite an explanation. "Ancap is gonna kill me," he sighed as he reached the cauldesacc at the end of the lane. He decided to forget this for now, and scanned the trees in front of him. At this, he turned around and began to set off at a slow pace, allowing himself to be preoccupied with his rampaging thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I legit worked on this instead of doing an essay at 4 in the morning, what has my life become. Anyway, this is a post Centricide AU, and Ancom was turned back from Post Left before this. However, Ancom still has Postie traits, like having a bit more relaxed speech, though quis voice is still a bit shrill. Lots of angsty Leftist Unity coming cuz I can't get enough of these gay af commies •^•
> 
> Well that's it really lol.


End file.
